


sweet poison

by shivadyne



Series: recipes for the bloodthirsty [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempt at Humor, Compulsion, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 02:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shivadyne/pseuds/shivadyne
Summary: “He wants to suck me dry and throw my corpse into the dumpster,” he says. “I don’t think that’s adorable.”“Not from what I’ve been hearing.” Tifa twirls her fork around in the spaghetti, raising the bite to her mouth. “Aeris says he’s quite taken with you.”
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: recipes for the bloodthirsty [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216127
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	sweet poison

**Author's Note:**

> hi i have not edited this bc it is rather late and i churned it out all at once but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> i like making cloud a sulky bitter fae so much

“If I uninvite him from my apartment, he’s going to lie in wait and jump me at the nearest Fried Chocobo joint,” Cloud says, dropping another sugar cube into his coffee. He stirs it around, watching the sugar slowly dissolve.

“You like having him around,” Tifa teases him, reaching out to pinch Cloud’s cheek between her fingers. She grins widely at him. “Isn’t that just adorable?”

Cloud swats her hand away, pouting into his coffee. At least it tastes delicious as always. He would have to thank Aeris for introducing the blend to him later. “He wants to suck me dry and throw my corpse into the dumpster,” he says. “I don’t think that’s adorable.”

“Not from what I’ve been hearing.” Tifa twirls her fork around in the spaghetti, raising the bite to her mouth. “Aeris says he’s quite taken with you.” She looks at him approvingly as she eats. “Garlic sauce this time?”

“I have a couple jars of it,” Cloud says, staring down at his plate. “For emergencies.”

“Of the Sephiroth variety, I assume? Those vampires and their hatred of garlic is so easy, really. Drives them right out the door.” She raises an eyebrow. “So why haven’t you gone and used that every time he came over?” 

Cloud doesn’t answer.

“Did he leave too fast the last time you pulled out all the stops for him?” she asks with a faux pout, sounding sugary sweet. Her eyes are dark and full of menace. Evil creature.

“I didn’t check the time,” Cloud says, swallowing down the urge to tell her the full truth. Honesty burns like cinnamon sugar, potent and hot. Not a pleasant experience. “But there’s no point cooking all that pasta for myself. Zack doesn’t like garlic either.”

“Isn’t he a werewolf?” Tifa asks curiously.

“Yes, but he also has no taste.” Cloud takes a bite of his pasta, chewing aggressively as he stabs his fork down onto the plate. “I’m wasted on him.”

“Next time you should make Sephiroth something he’d like,” Tifa says. “He’d never expect it. You might send him running for the hills and not even waste food doing it. It’s like reverse psychology almost. Lure him in expecting the game to keep going, but you’re not playing it properly anymore.”

Cloud’s fingers twitch around the silverware as he considers reaching for his neck to touch the two tiny pinpricks on his neck. “He’d bite me for sure.”

“I doubt he’d kill you.” Tifa glances over to him. “That’s not abiding by the rules of hospitality. That would be grounds for you to permanently remove him.”

Cloud sighs. “You won’t leave me alone until I do it, will you?”

Tifa shrugs. “Can you blame me? You’re a bit hopeless. Like a stray cat that bites the hand that feeds it.”

“I’m not the bitey one,” he says sulkily. “But… I’ll try it. Maybe he won’t come back. He likes a challenge.”

“And you certainly are one with how stubborn you are,” Tifa muses, placing the silverware down on the table. “Well, if anything goes wrong, I’ll bring a pint of ice cream for you. You like that obnoxiously sugary one with the sprinkles, right?”

Cloud glares at her. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You’re so bad at being a fae,” Tifa says with a sigh. “How does your mother deal with you?”

Cloud frowns. “All she does is ask me who I’m dating. Maybe you should be her child instead.”

Tifa grins at him. “No, I’m definitely my father’s daughter. Maybe I should go into politics?”

Cloud narrows his eyes at her. “No. You’d be too powerful.”

Tifa smirks. “I already am. Now how about we plan this evening with Sephiroth, hm?”

Cloud takes a sip of his coffee, scowling when he realizes it’s gone cold. His life is just a series of tragedies. He should’ve burned garlic incense when he got the chance so Sephiroth couldn’t step foot through the door. If only Zack didn’t have a severe allergic reaction… Such a failwolf.

***

Cloud stirs his spoon through the Devilfin soup, watching Sephiroth with sharp eyes. He doesn’t bother to take a sip of it yet. It is somewhat funny that the devil himself likes soup named in his honor, he supposes. “I made this just for you,” he says in a flat voice. “Aren’t you going to eat it? It would be rude to turn down my offer.”

Sephiroth takes a spoonful but he looks wary. “That’s kind of you,” he says. “I could easily return the favor, if you’d tell me what foods you actually enjoy.” He seems to be enjoying the soup if the tension in his shoulders dropping is any indication.

Cloud tenses at the sight of his enemy letting his guard down. It seems too easy. He doesn’t like it. “I told you what foods I hate,” he says. “I’ll eat anything else.” He savors the blend of flavors in the soup, mentally patting himself on the back. The ginger and the pepper paired with the taste of the fish is excellent.

Sephiroth raises an eyebrow. “And yet is it kind of me, as a guest, to turn my back on your hospitality by making my favorite meal? Would it not be reasonable of me to offer you a similar gesture in return?”

Cloud contemplates gutting him with a spoon. It would be hard, but he can get creative. “I don’t have favorite foods,” he says, sulkily. “I’ll eat things that are sweet. The more sugar, the better.”

“So it is true that the fae enjoy their foods sweet,” Sephiroth says, looking amused. “I would have thought someone like yourself would be different.”

“My blood could make you sick,” Cloud says, gripping his spoon tightly. Maybe he should start by taking out his eyes. Then go in for the kill. “It’s simple self-preservation. The fae are much-desired by many.”

“Greatly desired,” Sephiroth says, voice pitching lower.

Cloud feels his face heating up. “For our power,” he emphasizes.

“Yes, but yours does not lie in dishonesty,” he says, reaching out across the table to press a thumb against Cloud’s neck right beneath his chin. He rubs his thumb against the skin, slowly rotating it around in circles as he speaks. “Your blood would only make me sick because of the contact I would make with your skin. You’ve started using a lemon-scented body wash. Or that’s your impression of the situation.”

“My impression?” Cloud asks, far too aware of the movement of his throat against the finger still pressed against it.

“It would be a minor irritant,” Sephiroth says with a smirk, resting his palm against Cloud’s cheek. “And I would be remiss in appreciating your hospitality if I were to avoid thanking you quite thoroughly by demonstrating the level of my tolerance. It would ensure your safety in the future if you were to make such a wrongful assumption around another vampire, perhaps one stronger than you.”

“There’s no need.” Cloud contemplates biting Sephiroth’s thumb off. The thought comforts him. He knows he’s supposed to have no ulterior motives here, but his roommate is an idiot and used up all his toiletries without replacing them. “No vampire is stronger than me.”

Sephiroth drops his hand. “Would you like to test that?”

Cloud scoffs. “I have this place warded against compulsion spells. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

Sephiroth smirks. “Then it seems we have no choice. You’ll have to visit me at my home where no such wards exist. I’ll hope to see you soon, Cloud.”

Cloud freezes, realizing the mess he’s gotten himself into. “…I guess I will,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

***

Cloud huddles further into his hoodie as he walks towards Sephiroth’s huge ass manor, holding his phone against his ear. “Tifa, he’s going to eat me alive.”

“I think you might like it,” Tifa teases over the phone. “He wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. When has a vampire been this obsessed with prey before?”

“He’s one of those old vampires with a manor and everything,” Cloud says despairingly. “There’s something wrong with him in the head. I’m going to die and it’s your fault.”

“Stop being a wuss and hovering outside in his picture-perfect lawn,” Tifa says. “I’m hanging up now.”

Cloud internally curses her in as many swear words as he can think up. He stares down at the grass, all cut to the same length in a way that seems exceedingly perfectionistic. He stops being a wuss and hovering outside in Sephiroth’s picture-perfect lawn, walking down the stone path towards the huge arching doors. He pulls the knocker, shaped in the head of a serpent, and contemplates his life choices. All bad.

Sephiroth opens the doors, seemingly unbothered by their irritating creaking. Since he’s a vampire drama queen, it’s likely he wants them to do it for the aesthetic of it all. Weirdo. “Cloud, you’ve arrived.” He’s dressed far better than Cloud in a button-down shirt and a pair of slacks. “A bit late, might I add.”

Cloud looks down at his jeans, full of holes and not the aesthetic kind. He feels vindictively pleased he’s ruined at least several of Sephiroth’s murder fantasies with his abysmal state of dress. “Yeah. My Uber driver got lost, so I just paid her and walked the rest of the way here.” He shrugs, not really bothered by the whole affair. “Probably because you live in the middle of nowhere.”

Sephiroth rests a hand against the small of his back, ushering him in even as he looks confused. “Why didn’t you bring your motorcycle?”

“Zack is currently pretending he’s the owner of it so Aeris will go out with him,” Cloud says, sighing heavily. “I had no other options. You’re just lucky I didn’t throw up in the back of her car or I would’ve called this off.”

“Your roommate is very…” Sephiroth trails off.

“Stupid,” Cloud says. “And he owes me for the Uber. I’m going to make him pay me back with interest.” He glances around, taking in the dreary interior. At least there weren’t any cobwebs or ghost butlers. Small mercies. “Are we fighting or what?”

Sephiroth glances down at him, his eyes darker in the dim lighting. That lamp light must be a real pain in the ass when it comes to the upkeep of the place. At least vampires aren’t as likely to stub their toes in the dark. “You can try.”

Cloud frowns as he takes in their surroundings. It seems like he’s been brought to a living room, not somewhere he’d want to fight in particularly much. All the expensive furniture would be easy to destroy and much as he liked causing Sephiroth pain, it still makes him feel guilty to be wasteful like that. “That’s such a non-response,” he says after a long pause. “I have a feeling you’re setting me up.”

“Just a bit, I’m afraid,” Sephiroth says as he pushes Cloud down onto the couch, leaning over him. Silver hair pools around them, but all Cloud can focus on is the glowing redness of Sephiroth’s eyes. “You’re going to relax,” he says in a soothing voice, smooth as butter. “You have no desire to fight me, do you?”

Cloud slowly shakes his head no, his head feeling thick and cottony. “Not really,” he says eventually.

“You have no desire to harm me,” Sephiroth says, kneeling between Cloud’s legs and bracing his hand on his thigh. “In fact, the only thing you want to do is to let me handle it. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Will you let me?”

Cloud blinks slowly down at him, still mesmerized by the glowing of his eyes and something about his voice. He couldn’t put his fingers on it. “Yes,” he says. “I’ll let you handle it.”

“So, will you make a deal with me, Cloud? Forfeit to me before a battle has even begun?”

“I swear to forfeit to you under the Strife name,” Cloud says, eyes glowing briefly as a contract is formed between them. The sudden burst of power is enough for him to shake the hold of that silky voice and he smashes a palm into Sephiroth’s forehead, narrowing his eyes. “What…?” he asks, confused as the memories drift back to him in an almost dreamlike quality.

Sephiroth watches him, the redness fading from his eyes. He smiles, patting the inside of Cloud’s thigh. “If I were any other vampire, you would be in trouble,” he says. “But part of the fun is your stubbornness, even when you end up doing something foolish to save face. We have a deal now.”

Cloud curls his fingers up to form a fist, resting it against Sephiroth’s temple. He scowls. “You kept the deal loose. Forfeiting could have variable meanings. I could be giving up money to you for failing to successfully fight you.”

“Or you could surrender,” Sephiroth says in nothing short of a purr, the bastard. He rests a hand against the back of Cloud’s neck, still so tall even when kneeling between his legs. “And give me a taste?”

“Is that your definition of surrender?” Cloud asks bitingly.

Sephiroth sighs. “Not particularly, no. Your obliviousness has started to become more irritating than it is appealing,” he admits. “So, let me be very clear with you, Cloud Strife. I want you. My definition of your surrender would be anything you’d give me.”

Cloud stares down at him, eyes wide. “Um,” he says uselessly.

Sephiroth sighs again with feeling.

Cloud narrows his eyes. “Have you been flirting with me this entire time?” he demands. “Who flirts with someone by constantly trying to drink their blood and misusing the hospitality of the fae?”

“I suppose my approach was a bit odd,” Sephiroth admits. “But I do like seeing your angry pout.”

“I don’t have an angry pout,” Cloud says, angrily pouting. “But I would say your approach is just creepy. I thought I’d leave here in a body bag.”

“You came regardless,” Sephiroth says. He tilts his head. “Out of pride?”

Cloud sighs heavily, gripping Sephiroth’s shirt in his hands. “Oh, shut up,” he says, pulling him upwards and sealing their mouths together in a kiss.

Sephiroth presses up against him, knee nudged between his thighs. He grabs the back of Cloud’s head as he attacks his mouth with bruising kisses, running his fingers through his messy hair. He doesn’t let him come up for air for more than a second before pulling him back down.

Cloud wraps his arms around Sephiroth’s waist, holding him in place precariously balanced against the outside of his thighs. He nibbles on Sephiroth’s lip, slowly at first, before he outright bites down on it hard enough to draw blood. It’s enough to shock him and he pulls back, feeling smug. “Take that, you crypt keeper.”

Sephiroth sucks on his lower lip, clearly not enjoying the taste of his own stale undead blood. “Luckily I find your aggression cute,” he says, pulling himself up to sit down on Cloud’s lap. He brushes his thumb over Cloud’s lips. “You taste delicious,” he says, eyes darkening. “I find myself wanting more.”

Cloud shoves Sephiroth off his lap, watching him tumble to the ground with darker amusement. “You’re a creep,” he says, annoyed. He darts his eyes off to the side, then glances back to him again. “But maybe after you buy me dinner a couple times…”

Sephiroth sits up, his hair in disarray and his expression murderous. He pulls Cloud down to join him, holding him in his lap. “And maybe after that you’ll let me have some dinner, hm?” He presses his mouth against the back of his neck, letting his fangs creep out.

Cloud shudders at the feeling of the fangs pressed against his neck. “Put them away,” he says, relaxing when he feels them receding. “I’ll think about it,” he says after a moment, face burning. “You need to stop with the cheesy vampire novel lines, though. If you’re comparing me to a Gothic heroine, I’ll knock your fangs right out of your mouth.”

Sephiroth rests the top of his head against Cloud’s, an arm loosely wrapped around him. “I’ll consider it,” he says. “After they stop making you blush like one.”

Cloud contemplates murdering him once again. A stake to the heart shouldn’t be too bad so long as he pays a witch to revive the asshole soon after. “You’re on thin ice,” he threatens.

“Hypothermia doesn’t exactly scare me,” Sephiroth says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “But I’ve got that disgusting Count Chockula cereal you like in my cupboards, so I think I’ll risk the odds of your wrath.”

Cloud sighs deeply. “You’re lucky I’m fae.” He rests a hand against Sephiroth’s arm. “Show me to the cereal before I decide to hurt you.”

Sephiroth waits a beat, then says, “As you wish.”

Cloud groans. “I liked you better when I didn’t realize you were this cheesy on purpose.”


End file.
